


Intrigue

by asweetdeception



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M, Gen, Humor, Romance, Sexual Tension, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:00:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asweetdeception/pseuds/asweetdeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>18-year-old Charlie Matheson has just started college, and she couldn't be more thrilled. But the cause of her excitement isn't the new place or the people, rather, it's her US War History class and the mysterious Professor Monroe whose mention she has only heard in her mother's nostalgic stories of the past and Uncle Miles' rare, alcohol-infused rants.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Thud!_

A picture frame bounced off the bed and landed facedown on the floor. Charlie had been pulled out of her deep thoughts at the sound of the door opening abruptly, and had accidentally knocked over the picture frame she had just pulled out of her suitcase and placed on her bed.

She looked up to glance at the intruder who had interrupted her. Her eyes landed on a short, thin-framed girl with rectangle glasses who was struggling to carry two boxes, that were threatening to bring her down with them, inside the room. This explained why she had opened the door so loudly; the poor girl could barely keep herself balanced, let alone the weight of the boxes that seemed larger than her.

"I'm guessing you're Charlotte Matheson?" the girl asked as she stood in the doorway, leaning on the door for support to keep her boxes from falling.

"And I'm guessing you need help with before those boxes drag you down with them.," Charlie answered with her eyebrows slightly raised in a joking manner as she cracked half a smile, and walked over to the door to help the poor girl out. "Oh, and I prefer Charlie."

Charlie took the two boxes form the girl and set them down on the right side of the room. When she turned around, with her hands on the back of her hips, the girl had composed herself somewhat and did not seem in any danger to fall over.

"You're a lifesaver, literally! I'm Angela, your roommate. And I prefer Gella," Gella said as she smiled and stuck her hand out towards Charlie.

"It's nice to meet you, Gella," Charlie smiled back as she shook Gella's hand. "I hope you don't mind, I took the left side."

"Oh, no, it's totally fine. I probably would have been indecisive about picking a side anyway," Gella laughed. "I'm gonna head back down to help my dad with the rest of my luggage. See you in a bit!"

As Gella walked out of the room, Charlie smiled and walked back over to her bed. She picked up the picture that had fallen off her bed earlier and turned it over. It was a picture of Charlie with her mom and Uncle Miles. The picture was old, from back before her dad had died and things in the Matheson house had taken a little bit of a jaded turn. She adoringly looked at the picture as she traced the faces of her mom and Uncle Miles, two of her most favorite people in the world, and reminisced about the much happier times.

* * *

"You ready for tomorrow?" Gella asked, as she sat down on her bed.

"Not really, but I guess nobody is ever really ready for the first day of school, whether it's high school or college," Charlie said matter-of-factly as she changed into her pajamas.

"I guess you're right," Gella sighed. "What classes do you have tomorrow?"

"I have English in the morning, then a break, and then I have US War History at noon," Charlie replied.

"Ew…war history? Sounds boring," Gella said making a face.

"I don't know, sounded kind of intriguing to me," Charlie muttered absentmindedly as she thought about the real reason she had found the class so interesting. "I guess I'll find out tomorrow." She walked over to her bed and climbed in.

"Night!" Gella said softly.

"Night," Charlie smiled.

* * *

"Excuse me," Charlie whispered as she made her way out of the library, and towards her next class. She wondered if the college hallways were always this crowded, or if the chaos was just caused by large number of confused and lost freshmen.

She had spent the time between her two classes looking for the assigned reading books for her English class in the library. Now, as the clock neared noon, Charlie made her way over to the History wing of the building for her next class.

She didn't know whether she was excited or nervous for her next class. No, the uneasy feeling of anxiety in her stomach was not caused by the intrigue of a US War History class. It was caused by the anticipation of what else she might find in the classroom. In reality, Charlie did not know what to expect, or even why she had signed up for the class. She didn't really understand what she was hoping to encounter by putting herself in this situation. Was she even expecting for there to be a situation? She did not know. She did not have answers to any of these questions. So, Charlie just put one foot in front of the other as she made her way to room number 314.

She made her way into the classroom, and sat down at the nearest empty seat she found. Her limbs were feeling tingly out of anticipation. Anticipation for what, she didn't know. She pulled out her notebook, and started doodling on the front cover to help her anxiety die down.

The class started quieting down as a sound of shuffling footsteps was heard coming from the front of the classroom. Charlie looked up and froze. She hadn't expected him to look so young, or so _beautiful_. She mentally smacked herself.  _He's your uncle's age!_

Not that Uncle Miles was some ancient looking fellow or anything, but somehow, in all of their stories, both Uncle Miles and her mom had forgotten to mention how attractive he was. What was Charlie expecting to see? A short, chubby, old guy with a beer-belly? She didn't know. She hadn't ever really tried to picture what he would look like. She was just intrigued by the stories and the mystery of this unknown man that she had never met. Or at least she never remembered meeting.

He had now made his way over to the desk, and had pulled out a sheet of paper from his bag. He did not look particularly enthusiastic about the coming to class this morning. Charlie wondered why that was. As she observed all his actions closely, trying to put them in perspective of all the stories she had heard, he started calling names off the roster sheet. He monotonously made his way down the roster sheet without once looking up at the students, sounding a little bored, until he reached a particular name. He paused for a second as his eyes lit up with curiosity, and his earlier expression of boredom suddenly left his face.

"Charlotte Matheson?" he called out as he finally looked up at the class, scanning the room for the owner of the name.

Charlie gulped as a strong tingling sensation took over her entire body. The uneasy feeling in her stomach returned, tenfold stronger. She finally mustered up the courage to slightly raise her hand.

"Here," She mumbled.

Professor Monroe's eyes scanned the room for the source of the voice, and finally rested on Charlie.

His crystal blue eyes gazed into her sparkling blue eyes, and she knew that this was going to be no ordinary class.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-year-old Charlie Matheson has just started college, and she couldn't be more thrilled. But the cause of her excitement isn't the new place or the people, rather, it's her US War History class and the mysterious Professor Monroe whose mention she has only heard in her mother's nostalgic stories of the past and Uncle Miles' rare, alcohol-infused rants.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!"

"Geez. Are you always carrying things twice your size?" Charlie said while raising her eyebrows with an amused smile on her face as she watched her roommate painfully make her way into the door while carrying a very large guitar case.

"You could laugh, or you could help," Gella shrugged. Charlie snickered as she got up from her bed and walked over to the door to help the poor girl out. Together, they both carried the case into the room, and set it down next to Gella's bed.

"Whew!" Gella let a heavy breath out as she collapsed on her bed. "How did the Dick-Measuring Chronicles go?"

"What?" Charlie retorted quizzically with a very confused and slightly apprehensive look on her face.

"US War History, Charlie. Your US War History class," Gella rolled her eyes. "How was it? You're back early. Did you skip?"

"You're crazy," Charlie answered laughing. "He ended the class early since it was just the first class. "

Charlie's mind raced back to earlier. He had recognized her name. Professor Monroe knew who Charlie was. There could be no other explanation for the icy cold look he had given her. Charlie felt chills as she remembered his stare.

Maybe the name 'Matheson' had brought back old memories for him, because Professor Monroe's entire demeanor had changed after he had called out her name. He had stumbled through the rest of the class, and had seemed unsettled. He even let the class out only 20 minutes into the lecture after briefly explaining the syllabus. Initially, she had hoped to have a word with him after class, and maybe mention Uncle Miles; but after his cold stare and tense demeanor, she had decided it might not be the best course of action to approach him. Not that she would have been able to even if she tried. Professor Monroe had practically fled the classroom after he announced the lecture over.

"Wooooohooooo!" Gella waved her hands in Charlie's face. "Earth to Charlie!"

"Sorry," Charlie quickly snapped out of her endless reflections on the earlier events. "I zoned out."

" I saw that. Who you zoning out over? Any eye-candy in the class?" Gella asked, wiggling her eyebrows in curiosity as she sat up in her bed.

"I don't know, I didn't really look at the other students," Charlie replied absentmindedly.

"Too busy looking at the teacher?" Gella winked. "Was he hot? I have NEVER had any hot teachers. Maybe I'll join this class. Is it even a he? What's his name?"

Charlie raised her eyebrows, amused by Gella's mindless rambling. "Monroe. It's Professor Monroe. And, yes, it's a he."  _And he IS eye-candy material_ , Charlie added in her mind.

"Ooh,  _Monroe_. Such a mysterious, old timey name. Was he in the military too? You know, since he teaches Dick-Measuring Chronicles," Gella winked at Charlie.

Charlie laughed.

"Captain Monroe," Gella thought out loud. "Nah, that sounds too piratey.  _General_  Monroe." Gella's eyes lit up as she sighed.

"You haven't even looked at the guy, and you're practically  _drooling_. I didn't even hint that he was good-looking. What if he was some old, grand-pa looking dude with a beer-belly?" Charlie challenged Gella with a highly amused look on her face.

"Ew. Is he?" Gella made a face.

"Well, he doesn't have a beer belly," Charlie smirked as she got up. "I'm gonna go grab something to eat from the café. You coming?"

* * *

Charlie raced through the hallways as she looked at a passing clock. Five past noon.  _Crap._  She had spilled a Coke on her shirt at the student lounge downstairs where she had been waiting for her US War History class. She had to run all the way back to her dorm to change out of her dirty shirt, and then had to run all the way back to the History wing.

And now, she was going to be late. Late to Professor  _Monroe_ 's class. If only she had had the good sense to grab a jacket in the morning, she could have just worn that over her dirty shirt.

Charlie slowed down her pace as she neared the classroom door, and then came to a complete stop at the door. She took a deep breath, and opened the door. Professor Monroe was explaining something to the class; he stopped mid-sentence and turned to look at her. The entire class stared at Charlie as she walked in.

"I'm not aware what high school was like for you, Miss Matheson; but this is college. Students don't just rudely stroll into class whenever they please. The class time is set at noon; which means students must be seated and ready to begin at exactly noon. Your peers have managed to accomplish this, and I suggest you do the same. I don't take kindly to being interrupted in the middle of a lecture," Professor Monroe

fumed, honoring her with the same icy cold stare he had given her last class.

Charlie glared back. Five minutes.  _Five minutes._  Really? An entire speech for being  _five minutes_ late? "I'm  _sorry_. I spilled something on my shirt, so I had to clean up before I could make it here," Charlie retorted, returning his icy stare.

"Excuses will get you no where in life, Miss Matheson. I suggest you have a seat and stop wasting mine and the class's time with the woes of your life," Professor Monroe ordered in an authoritative voice as he turned to the whiteboard.

Charlie fumed in disbelief at his attitude and angrily made her way to an empty seat in the fourth row. Her insides felt like they were literally boiling in anger. She had the strongest urge to throw something at him.  _What is his problem? I have never even met him! Is it a crime to be related to someone?_ Charlie fumed in her thoughts. When she had signed up for his class, this was not what she had expected. She had not expected to be insulted in front of the entire class. She had thought that he might react to her presence in his class, but she had never imagined he would act this way. ProfessorMonroe had started teaching about the beginnings of the Revolutionary War.  _Or General Monroe,_  Charlie thought to herself. Gella's silly nickname definitely suited him right now. He acted more like an irate dictator than a college history professor.  _Dick-Measuring Chronicles Professor_ , Charlie thought, remembering Gella's earlier remark and cracked a smile as she opened her notebook and started taking notes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-year-old Charlie Matheson has just started college, and she couldn't be more thrilled. But the cause of her excitement isn't the new place or the people, rather, it's her US War History class and the mysterious Professor Monroe whose mention she has only heard in her mother's nostalgic stories of the past and Uncle Miles' rare, alcohol-infused rants.

'Want some peanuts?" Gella asked as she sat on her bed with her laptop in her lap, munching on roasted peanuts.

"No time for peanuts," Charlie replied absentmindedly as she frantically shuffled through the papers in her hands.

"What is that you're working on? It has turned you into an obsessive zombie. That's if zombies could be obsessive. I don't even know why I just said that. Anyway, what is that?" Gella rambled looking at Charlie with concern.

Charlie was sprawled across the floor next to her bed with her laptop in front of her. There were papers and books and notes everywhere, and Charlie was shuffling through these papers as she obsessively typed away on her laptop.

"Nothing. It's an essay for my War History class," Charlie replied, again absentmindedly.

"Ekh. I don't know why anyone would be tempted to sign up for such a class, let alone work so hard on a paper for it. I would probably have dropped out by now," Gella commented while typing away on her laptop mindlessly.

Charlie smirked. "Not everyone runs at the sight of academics, Gella," she retorted.

As she sat there, frantically highlighting a page in one of the many books laying open in front of her, Charlie pondered over her US War History class and the real reason she had been working so diligently on this essay.

After the debacle that had resulted from her late arrival on the second day of class, Charlie had gone out of her way to stay out of Professor Monroe's crosshairs. She had endured enough public shaming to last her entire college career, and did not need to become any more of a spectacle for her fellow students to see. Charlie had determined that it had been a giant mistake for her to sign up for that class, some beasts are better left undisturbed. She had considered just altogether withdrawing from the class to avoid any further confrontations with a very infuriated-for-no-reason Professor Monroe, but her stubbornness had gotten the best of her. Withdrawing now would be a sign of weakness. She had done nothing wrong. She had not provoked him in any way. All she had done was sign up for his stupid class, and he had treated her like trash. He had treated her like a little child throwing a tantrum in public. She did not deserve this treatment, especially not from a man who did not even know her in the slightest.

Instead, she had decided to stay out of his hair until she could come up with a better plan to throw his contempt back in his face. Every class for the past four weeks, she would show up ten minutes before class time, find a seat in the very back, and leave after he had scurried off at the end of class.

But now, an opportunity had risen. Professor Monroe had assigned the class their first assignment of the semester: a research paper on a topic of the student's choosing regarding the American Civil War. He seemed weirdly fixated on the civil war for some unknown reason. Charlie had noticed that he had gotten overly excited for the past three class periods when they had started studying about the civil war. He had even stopped making irate faces while calling Charlie's name during roll call during these classes. Consequently, Charlie had decided to seize this opportunity and make the best of it.

She was going to write the best research paper a college student had ever written in the history of this college. She was going to prove to him that she wasn't just some stupid slacker with a lack of regard for school. She was going to show him that she hadn't joined this class to bat her lashes at him, but because she actually enjoyed the subject itself. She had chosen to write her paper about the Civil War dress codes and uniforms, and their significance to the war. This was going to be the best paper he had ever read, and Charlie had spent hours meticulously researching over it. She was going to make him treat her with respect, even if she had to take a sleeping bag to the library to do it.

* * *

"…And General Lee's surrender made the Battle of Appomattox Court House the final major engagement of the Civil War. Now, before you guys leave; make sure to grab your graded research paper from the front table. I have them ordered alphabetically by last names in five different stacks with labels. If you have any questions regarding your paper, feel free to shoot me an e-mail or stop by my office during my office hours which are listed on the syllabus," Professor Monroe announced as he packed up his things and headed for the exit.

Charlie had been waiting the entire class period to get to this part. She made her way excitedly down the stairs to the front table, a visible grin covering her face. She had wanted so badly to see his reaction when he was reading her paper in all its amazingness. Even more so, she had wanted to see his face as he must have painfully marked an 'A' on top of her paper. She practically skipped to the 'K through O' stack, and quickly shuffled through all the papers to find hers.

And finally she did.

There it was with her name nicely typed across the top left, right across from the… _'C'_? A  _'C'_? Did he seriously just give her a C? Charlie had never gotten a C on any research paper in her entire life, especially not on ones she had worked really hard on. But a C on this paper, of all the papers? One that she had spent so many hours in the library over? Charlie felt like the entire world had started spinning around her. The immeasurable nuclear explosion of anger that was bursting inside of her could have caused radiation poisoning all the way in California.

_That's it,_  Charlie thought.  _I'm not putting up with his shit anymore. He wants to secretly brood in anger over whatever issue he has with my existence, he can. But he is NOT screwing with my grades over some ancient bromance falling-out._

In that moment, Charlie decided that she was done treading cautiously around her time bomb of a professor. No, she was going straight to the source and getting this worked out once and for all.  _He has a problem with me? He can be a man about it and say it to my face when he doesn't have a class full of students and his unfounded irate façade to hide under_ , she thought definitively.

Unfortunately, she would have to wait till his next open office hours to confront him.

* * *

"You got a  _'C'_?!" Gella shrieked as she emerged from inside her closet with several pieces of clothing hanging from her shoulders.

Charlie shrugged, sitting on her bed with her shoulders slouched and a grimace on her face as she stared at the glaring red C on her beautiful paper. It felt like the scarlet letter of insult etched across her chest. Okay, it wasn't that dramatic, but it felt like it was searing into her eyes.

"I have never seen someone work so crazily over just some regular-ass research paper. I thought your professor was going to have to invent a better grade than 'A' to give you on it. He must be one of those really annoyingly tough professors who won't accept anything short of a blood sacrifice for a decent grade," Gella commented in a sad voice. "Man I really gotta see this Professor Monroe."

"Yeah, he's nothing special," Charlie sulked. "And I'm pretty sure the blood-sacrifice requirement is only for me, because pretty much half of the class made A's."

"What? Are you sure?" Gella asked confused.

"Yeah. I saw them all cheering with joy on their grade. I'm pretty sure no one cheers with joy over C's," Charlie replied.

"Wait but why would he give  _you_  a C then?" Gella frowned.

"Cause my last name's Matheson," Charlie explained.

"Huh?" Confused was an understatement for the look that graced Gella's face. She raised her eyebrows and crumpled her forehead.

And with that, Charlie dove into her family's long history with Professor Monroe, or as her mom sometimes liked to call him, Bass. She told Gella about how her Uncle Miles and Professor Monroe used to be the absolute best friends until they had a severe falling out, and how her mom had described him as an extension of the family who was always hanging around. Gella listened attentively with her jaw dropped and her eyebrows raised.

"So he's pretty much like an extended uncle to you?" Gella remarked thoughtfully.

"No, he's my uncle's former friend," Charlie contended.

"Yeah and that kind of makes him your extended uncle," Gella responded.

"Whatever," Charlie muttered. The thought didn't sit well with her for some reason, and she did not know why. She shrugged it off. "So, yeah. He's acting like a little kid throwing a tantrum and taking out whatever annoyances he has with Miles on my grades."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Gella inquired.

"I'm going to stop beating around the bush and go straight to him. Whatever happened with the two of them all of those years ago has nothing to do with me, and he needs to stop acting out about it. Like do the words professionalism even mean anything to him? I'm just gonna tell him to shove it and give me a real grade or I'm going to the dean," Charlie ranted.

"Hmm," Gella nodded. "Just don't get too up in his face. Remember that he's a teacher and can get you into trouble. "

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I won't get kicked out."

"So. Do you remember him at all?" Gella asked excitedly.

"What?" Charlie asked quizzically.

"Professor Monroe. You said your mom said he used to always hang around back then. So, do you remember him at all?" she pressed.

"Oh. No. I was really little. I don't think I really spent any time around him," Charlie remarked.

"You know, you never answered my initial question about him," Gella observed.

"What was that?"

"Is he hot?"

"Eww. He's my uncle's age, Gella!" Charlie groaned.

"But he's not your uncle, you said so yourself," Gella teased.

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Besides, who cares how hot you are if you act like an old, grumpy grandpa," Charlie grunted.

"So he  _is_  hot?" Gella raised her eyebrows with a smirk on her face.

"Ok then. I'm gonna go to bed now, Gella," Charlie responded patronizingly with her eyebrows raised, as she climbed into her blankets.

* * *

Charlie replayed the moment she had first seen the glaring 'C' on her research paper in her head as she walked out of her Pre-Calculus class and made her way to the History wing. It was 1:00 p.m. on a Tuesday afternoon, and it was time for Professor Monroe's open office hours. Open office hours meant that the professor was found in his office with his door open, and students were free to walk-in and discuss whatever they wanted to discuss. And, oh, was she going to discuss things with him. She was going to discuss lots of things with him. Things like how she was not Miles Matheson. Things like how his past with her family had nothing to do with her or her grades. And things like how he should grow up and learn to treat his job professionally.

Charlie slowed down her pace as she reached a hallway of professor offices. She calmly scanned the numbers etched on the wall next to the office doors for room number 128. And she found it.

She gulped and composed herself as she made her way to his office.  _Remember what Gella told you. He's a professor. Talk calmly and dissolve the situation. Don't let your temper get to you._ With that pep talk, she let out a long breath, and knocked on the door.

"Yes?" his raspy voice called out.

Charlie pushed the door in and stepped into his office, her paper clutched tightly in her left hand. She almost wished she had a camera in her hand so that she could forever capture the look that covered his face as he watched her walk into his office, where he had nowhere to hurriedly run off. He looked something between surprised and completely alarmed, like he had never imagined she would ever have the nerve to confront him in his office.

"Miss Matheson?" he spoke in an inquisitive manner with an authority in his voice that Charlie hadn't expected. His earlier look had been merely a lapse in control. He was now back to his usual demeanor of calm and calculating, unquestionable authority.

Charlie suddenly felt like exactly what she was, a young student in a scary teacher's office. She was unexpectedly nervous and a little scared of speaking up to him. He had a very strangely influential air to him, an air of importance. What had Gella called him?  _General_  Monroe. In this moment, Charlie could almost picture him in a civil war uniform, looking important and commanding thousands into battle. It was a strange sensation.

_Snap out of it. You look like an idiot,_ Charlie mentally smacked herself. He's not an army general. He's a college professor still hung up on an age-old bromance. With that, Charlie looked at the glaring red 'C' on her paper and her fiery courage came running back.

"I wanted to talk to you about my research paper," Charlie calmly stated.

"What about it?" he retorted.

"You gave me a 'C'," Charlie snapped as she placed her paper on his desk, careful to not slam it on the desk.

"I do not have amnesia, Ms. Matheson; I'm aware of the grade I gave you," he replied in an exasperated and almost mocking tone.

Charlie's eye twitched with anger as she tried to keep a calm demeanor. "I want to know  _why_  you gave me a 'C'," she retorted, clenching her teeth.

"Because you wrote a C-grade paper. Now did you come here to bore me with continuous pointless questions, or is there a point for your visit?" Professor Monroe snapped impatiently and a little condescendingly.

Charlie fumed. She had the sudden urge to flip his abnormally large desk over his head and beat him with his stupid little civil war cannon statue. How could a person you barely knew ignite so much fury in you? She took a deep breath and bit her tongue to stay calm. "I don't see how my paper was a C-grade paper. I worked very hard on it, and I spent hours researching it," she further explained her query.

"Well, Charlotte. Hard work doesn't always equal good work," he replied firmly, with a challenging look in his eyes.

Did he just. Did he just call her  _Charlotte?_  What? What happened to Miss Matheson? What, they were suddenly on first name basis? It was strange hearing her formal first name being used in conversation. But the way he said it, it didn't sound strange on his lips. He somehow made it sound beautiful. Charlie snapped herself out of her ridiculous thought-train. What was wrong with her and her absurd thought tangents?

"Well,  _Professor Monroe_. My hard work always equals excellent work. Why don't you show me what exactly it is that I did wrong on it that deserved a 'C'?" Charlie retorted with a heavily sarcastic tone.

"For one, you said that the uniforms were made of wool; when, just a little bit of internet research would have told you that only the Union uniforms were made of wool. The Confederate uniforms were made of cotton from the cotton fields. That's sloppy research," Professor Monroe noted.

"Seriously? That's one minor detail compared to all the other research I did, which was completely accurate. One minor error does not get me a C!" Charlie contested.

"The fact that you think it's a minor detail, and fail to accept your mistakes shows that you are not up to college standard work. Stubbornness might get you places at home, but it is not going to get rules bent for you here. I suggest you learn to take criticism and work on improving your work rather than waste other people's time by whining about your failures," Monroe snapped in such a reproaching tone, that all control that Charlie was keeping on her ever-boiling anger broke loose.

"Well, then  _I_  suggest you take your misplaced aggression and shove it!" Charlie spat back at him.

Monroe's face darkened and his nostrils flared. "Excuse me?" he hissed in a dangerous voice.

"I'm sick of you acting like a complete jerk to me when I don't even know you, just because my last name offends you. And I'm sick of dancing around the very gigantic elephant in the room. I'm not _Miles_. And whatever broken, tragic bromance you guys had, has nothing to do with me. Just because I share his last name does not give you permission to treat me like your red-headed stepchild!" Charlie almost shouted back at him.

Monroe had gotten a broken look in his eyes like she had really hit him where it hurt. His crystal blue eyes gazed at her with a piercing, angry stare. For a moment they both just sat there, glaring at each other with absolute fury. Charlie had not realized just how much she had moved up in her seat in her angry speech. Her stomach was pressed to the end of the desk, and her face was intimidatingly hovering over the desk. She hadn't realized just how close to his face she had gotten. It was pretty close. Closer than she had intended to. The space between them was very thin, and the air between them even thinner. She could almost hear him breathing, and it made her heart race a little bit, but she did not let her angry glower falter. He seemed to be in the exact same position, holding his furious glare perfectly in place. It was almost like a glaring contest between them, a stalemate, where neither of them seemed to be backing down. The extreme tension in the room had risen to a boiling point, and Charlie could almost feel the tangible radiation of anger being emitted from their glares as each of their eyes dared the other to utter one more word of affront.

"Uhh, Bass?" a voice came from outside the office door coupled with a slight knock.

The tension suddenly seemed to be lifted from the room, as both of them blinked and backed down in their seats. The voice had jerked them out of whatever moment they seemed to have been caught in and jolted some sense back into them.

Professor Monroe cleared his throat, and glanced up at the owner of the new voice. "Jeremy?" he muttered uncomfortably.

Charlie hurriedly reached out to grab her paper from the desk. She suddenly found the room to be very hot, and her cheeks seemed to be getting a warm, pinkish tinge.

"It's time for the Board meeting. Come on, we're gonna be late," Jeremy replied with an air of urgency.

Professor Monroe quickly grabbed a notebook and a pen from his desk, and got up from his chair. "Miss Matheson, we can discuss your grade at a later time," he announced to Charlie in a condescending tone with a piercing, unwavering stare.

Charlie returned his piercing stare with a very firm glare of her own and flashed him a sarcastic, snide half-smile as she got up from her chair, and made her way out into the hallway. Behind her, she could hear Jeremy quietly probe Monroe about what had been going on.

As she made her way out of the office section of the History wing, Charlie herself wondered what exactly had just happened. She didn't know what she had expected from her meeting with him, but she had definitely not expected this. She had simply gone to challenge her grade on her research paper, not to have some sort of a weird, tension-filled staring match with her history professor. She didn't quite know what to feel. It seemed that she was unable to have a civilized conversation with him, unable to talk to him without at least one of them jumping to the other's throat. The interactions somehow did not feel appropriate for a student-teacher relationship. There shouldn't be this much tension and fury involved in a normal student-teacher interaction.  _But then again, this isn't a normal student-teacher relationship,_ Charlie thought. Not that she really had anything to do with that. She was merely being put into uncomfortable circumstances for having a certain last name. Charlie sighed, and made her way back to her dorm, where she knew Gella would be very excitedly waiting for her return to press her for details about the meeting.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-year-old Charlie Matheson has just started college, and she couldn't be more thrilled. But the cause of her excitement isn't the new place or the people, rather, it's her US War History class and the mysterious Professor Monroe whose mention she has only heard in her mother's nostalgic stories of the past and Uncle Miles' rare, alcohol-infused rants.

"…I'll be holding a review session on Monday after class for the exam on Wednesday. I would suggest that you guys review the material and formulate some questions for me beforehand so that we will have material to discuss at the review session. And don't forget to grab the review sheet on your way out," Professor Monroe trailed off as students started shuffling out of their seats to exit the classroom.

Charlie put her notebook in her backpack and started walking towards the front table to take a review sheet with a sour look on her face. She still hadn't quite gotten over her terrible research paper grade or yesterday's angry confrontation with Professor Monroe. She quickly grasped one of the review sheets and started walking towards the door, but came to a stop when she heard his voice.

"Miss Matheson?" he called out behind her. "May I have a word?"

_You may have my foot shoved up your ass_ , Charlie thought to herself as she turned around with a straight face and made her way to Professor Monroe. "Yes?" she answered brazenly.

He glanced towards the last of the students as they left the classroom. "We were discussing your research paper grade before the interruption yesterday, if I remember correctly?" he expanded as his eyes gazed pointedly into hers.

His assertive manner displayed that he had had no trouble remembering their discussion from the day before, but Charlie wondered if by interruption he had meant his colleague's appearance or their heated showdown, or maybe both? Charlie stared back at him, still maintaining her straight face and making no effort to respond to his question.

His eyes wandered away from her as spoke, "I realize I may have been a little harsh in grading your paper considering that it was only your first college research paper. If you'll hand it back to me, I'll look it over and make some corrections. You can re-do it with my corrections and I'll grade it again."

Charlie raised her eyebrows and gawked at him. This was certainly not what she had expected him to say; she was truly taken aback. "Uh…yeah…okay," she stuttered as she dove into her bag to find her paper. If Monroe was going to suddenly start acting human, she wasn't taking any chances. _Better get my grade fixed before he throws a tantrum again_ , she thought to herself as she pulled out her paper and handed it to him.

His fingers briefly brushed against hers as he took the paper from her hand, and she felt a jolt of electricity course through her arm. No, it was  _actual_  electricity. He had static-shocked her!

" _Ow!"_  she squealed as she jerked her arm back, dropping her paper from her grip. She heard him groan loudly as he also drew his arm back from the painful jolt. She glanced up at him, startled. Had they really just actually shocked each other? She quickly darted her eyes away from him and bent down to pick up her fallen research paper.

"Sorry," he muttered almost inaudibly as he reached out to get the paper from her for the second time, this time extremely cautious to not accidentally touch her hand.

Charlie handed him the paper and quickly turned around to hurry out of the classroom. She could still feel the static electricity jolt through her fingers as she walked out of the classroom and into the hallway.  _Seriously, what is WITH this guy?_  She thought to herself, shaking her head in irritation.

* * *

"It's not that funny, Gella!" Charlie grumbled loudly as she put a big pillow in her lap. Gella, on the other hand, was rolling in her bed with laughter.

"I guess you could say, there was a  _spark_  between you two," Gella giggled before dropping into another bout of laughter.

"Oh my God, Gella. Shut up!" Charlie fumed, throwing her pillow at her giggly roommate. "I'm never telling you anything ever again!"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop," Gella chimed, stifling her laugh. "So, he's gonna let you do it again? That's awesome, Charlie!"

"Yeah. I'm still bummed about having to do it over, but I'm not about to test him. At least this way I'll hopefully get an A," Charlie sighed.

"Maybe this time you'll  _electrify_  him with your work," Gella chortled and started giggling again.

"Gella, I'm gonna kill you!" Charlie swore, throwing another pillow at Gella.

* * *

Charlie chucked her coffee cup into the recycling bin as she made her way down the hallway into the History Wing. She had been wondering all morning whether or not to go to the review session Professor Monroe was holding after class today. On one hand, even though she was good at history, she could always use the extra help for an exam; but on the other hand, there was always Professor Monroe's bipolar attitude.  _I guess I'll just see what he's like in class today and then decide,_  she calmly thought to herself as she entered the classroom.

"Miss Matheson?" his voice called from behind her.

_Again? What's he want now?_  She thought irately as she turned around to walk towards him.

"Here's your paper with the corrections," he stated as he handed it to her.

"Oh," she said more to herself than him as she reached out to take a paper filled with red-inked comments.

"Have it redone and turned in to me by the start of class on Wednesday," he added while flicking through a worn-out notebook.

"But the exam is on Wednesday," she remarked with one eyebrow raised.

His gaze moved to her as he coldly stared back at her. "You have two full days, I'm sure you can figure it out," he commented and turned away.

Charlie rolled her eyes and turned around to walk to her seat.  _Okay, I guess I won't go to the review session,_  she thought.

The rest of the class went uneventful as Professor Monroe lectured about the Spanish-American War. Charlie listened closely to his every word and took careful notes. Since she wasn't going to be at the review session later, this was all she would have to study with.

As the class came to a close, Professor Monroe gave his usual ending notes and instructed the class about where to meet him for the review session.

"Hey, are you going to that review?" a voice from her right inquired.

Charlie turned around to see a boy about her age with short blonde hair and light brown eyes looking at her. "I don't know, I was thinking about it but I don't know if I'll go."

"I've heard his review sessions are really helpful and he outlines most of the exam in them," he added. "You should come. I'm Kyle, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Kyle. I'm Charlie," she responded, smiling. "I guess I will go then if they're that helpful. Where did he say it was, again?"

"In one of the study rooms in the back," he replied.

Charlie gave him a confused look and smiled.

"Follow me," he gestured, smiling back at her as he made his way towards the doorway.

"So, what made you sign up for this class?" Kyle asked.

"Eh, I don't know. Sounded interesting, I guess?" Charlie answered. "What about you?"

"I needed an extra General-Ed class and my brother said Monroe was pretty chill," Kyle shrugged.

_Monroe? Chill? Interesting,_  Charlie thought to herself. "Really? He seems pretty uptight to me," she added.

"Huh. I always thought he was pretty chill. I practically threw together that Civil War paper the night before and he gave me an 'A' on it," Kyle beamed.

Charlie felt like someone had lit her on fire as anger welled up in her, but she fought to keep her cool. "This is pretty cool, I never knew these study rooms were here," she quickly changed the subject before Kyle could ask about her grade on the research paper.

"Yeah, they're pretty nice. And they're always open so students can come in and study whenever," Kyle explained, thankfully unaware of Charlie's quick change of subject.

The study room was small with a long table in the middle. There were chairs surrounding the table and a whiteboard behind it. There were already a lot of students seated in the room waiting on Professor Monroe. Charlie and Kyle made their way into the room and found themselves seats in the front of the table, next to each other.

Charlie pulled out her notebook, review sheet and a pen from her bag and started flipping through her notes to get to the civil war section. The murmur in the room came to a sudden stop as the sound of shuffling footsteps reached Charlie's ears. She looked up to see Professor Monroe walk to the front of the table with a worn-out notebook and a cup of coffee in his hands as he took the seat at the front of the table, merely three seats from Charlie. His eyes scanned the room in front of him and lingered on her for a second before he caught himself and looked away.

_I guess he hadn't expected me to show up_ , Charlie thought and found herself smirking.

"Okay, I guess this is all of us. I'm glad to see so many of you show up for the review session. It'll definitely help you out in studying for the exam," Professor Monroe announced to the class as he pulled out a review sheet form his notebook. "So we can either go through the review topics on this sheet one by one or we can just discuss your questions, it's up to you guys."

"Can we do questions first and then if we have time go over whatever's left on the review sheet?" one of the girls from the end of the table queried.

"Sure, if that's cool with everyone?" Professor Monroe replied glancing at the other students.

Everyone nodded in agreement and began shuffling through their notes to bring out their pre-prepared questions. Charlie hadn't written down any questions because she hadn't been planning to come to the session to begin with, but she was sure she could come up with some questions as the discussion went on.

The review session went on as the class asked several questions about the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, and the Spanish American War. Charlie had tried her best to keep out of Monroe's hair and had been quietly taking notes of all the discussions.

"Hey I didn't get the answer for the Battle of Shiloh question, can I look at yours?" Kyle whispered to her as the rest of the class talked about the beginnings of the Spanish-American War.

"Yeah, sure! Here," Charlie responded in a murmur as she laid out her notebook for him. "Sorry for the messy handwriting, I was trying to catch everything he was saying."

"Thanks!" Kyle replied. "And it's not even that bad. You should look at my chicken scratch."

Charlie chuckled. "Nah, you have pretty good handwriting for a boy!"

"Miss Matheson, if you have so much to say, why don't you join in the review discussion? This is a study session not a lounge where you can sit around and chat mindlessly" Monroe's cold voice called out.

Charlie turned her head in disbelief to look at him and suddenly found the entire room looking in her direction.

"Uh, sorry, it was my bad. I was asking her about one of the questions from earlier," Kyle jumped in to her rescue.

"Mr. Roberts, I'm sure Miss Matheson is fully capable of speaking for herself," Monroe snapped back while keeping his cool gaze fixed on Charlie.

"Yes, she is," Charlie retorted returning his gaze with a chilling glare. "I thought this was a review session, not a lecture. So aren't we supposed to be like, I don't know,  _reviewing_  together? He missed a question so I was helping him out. No need to get all fussed about it."

The room was suddenly very quiet and filled with tension like rooms tended to be whenever Charlie and Professor Monroe were having a conversation.

Professor Monroe's face suddenly had a very dangerous look on it as he lividly stared back at her. "Miss Matheson, you're sitting in a classroom not a barn. You need to learn to show your professors some respect if you expect to last more than a semester in college."

"I will start showing my professors respect when they stop throwing childish tantrums about the stupidest things with no reason all the time," Charlie snapped back without moving her glare from him.

Monroe raised his eyebrows in affront as he dropped his pen on the table. "That's enough. I'm gonna need you to step outside, Miss Matheson. You're disrupting everyone else's review session."

"Seriously?" Charlie threw back in irritation, cocking one eyebrow. "Whatever!" She gathered her things and stood up from her seat in raging fury as she walked towards the door without sparing one glance at him or anyone else in the room. She made her way out of the room and stormed down the hallway back to her dorm boiling in anger.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-year-old Charlie Matheson has just started college, and she couldn't be more thrilled. But the cause of her excitement isn't the new place or the people, rather, it's her US War History class and the mysterious Professor Monroe whose mention she has only heard in her mother's nostalgic stories of the past and Uncle Miles' rare, alcohol-infused rants.

Charlie sprinted out of the library doors and raced towards the History Wing. She had stopped by the library to print out her corrected research paper quickly before class, and was now rushing to class. The last thing Charlie needed was to give Professor Monroe any more reason to embarrass her, and God knows what he would do if she showed up late on an exam day. Charlie slowed down as she reached the classroom door just in time before the class started. As she entered the room, she was surprised to find a middle-aged woman with bright red hair standing at the front of the classroom.  _That's not Monroe,_  Charlie thought to herself as she stared for a minute before shrugging and making her way to her usual seat. After putting her backpack down, Charlie pulled out her corrected research paper that she was supposed to turn in today, and headed towards the redheaded woman.

"Excuse me?" Charlie spoke softly.

"Yes, dear?" the woman smiled at her.

"Is Professor Monroe not here today?" Charlie inquired.

"No, he had some personal business to attend to. I will be substituting for him today and administering your exam," she replied.

Charlie pondered over this for a second before remembering about her paper. "I was supposed to turn in my corrected research paper in to him today. Do you know where I can leave that?"

"Hm. Well, I'm afraid I won't be able to collect it on his behalf. He did ask me to let the class know that he will be in his office during his regular office hours tomorrow if anyone had any questions, so I suppose you could go and turn your paper in then?" the substitute professor helpfully suggested.

_Oh great. Another office hours encounter, how pleasant_ , Charlie thought as she mentally rolled her eyes. "Okay, thanks! I think that's what I will do."

With that, Charlie turned to go back to her seat.

"Psst. You ready for the test?" a voice whispered from beside her as she sat down.

"Hey!" Charlie smiled as she turned to see Kyle sitting in his seat next to her. "Yeah, I guess. What about you?"

"Yeah, I feel pretty good about it. The review session was great," Kyle responded. "Sorry you got kicked out because of me."

Charlie chuckled. "Don't worry, I have a feeling I would have gotten kicked out one way or another even if you hadn't asked me for my notes."

"Really? Why's that?" Kyle inquired, puzzled.

"Oh, I don't know. I think he doesn't like me much," Charlie shrugged.

"Okay, I think that's everyone," the substitute professor announced loudly, stopping Kyle from voicing any more questions, for which Charlie was thankful. "Hi! I'm Professor Crocker. Unfortunately, Professor Monroe had some personal commitments to attend to today, so I will be administering your exam today. He asked me to let you know that he will be available during office hours tomorrow if anyone needed to speak with him…"

* * *

"Hey, Francine and I are heading out to the art fair on the green, you wanna come?" Charlie's Pre-Calculus study group partner inquired as they walked out of their class.

"I would love to, Karie, but I have to go turn in my paper to my History professor," Charlie grimaced.

"Aw, okay. Text me later," Karie said as she walked off down the hall.

"Okay, bye!" Charlie called after her.

_Okay,_  Charlie thought as she sighed loudly and headed towards the History Wing to go see the lovely Professor Monroe.  _I guess this is it. Who knows, maybe he got abducted by aliens and I won't even have to see him. Wishful thinking._  Charlie shrugged as she made her way to his office.

_Sigh._  There it was: Room 128.

Charlie fished out the paper from her bag, clutched it tightly, and braced herself for another encounter with her grumpy professor.

"Professor Monroe?" She called out as she knocked softly on the slightly open door and pushed it open.

Professor Monroe, who seemed to be staring intently at a photograph, was standing by a bookcase to the left of door. He looked up suddenly, as if he had been pulled out of a long, engaging thought; his expression, however, changed completely as his eyes rested on Charlie. A look of slight annoyance and slight discomfort passed over his face for a mere split second before he composed himself. "Miss Matheson?"

Charlie made her way into the room as the door slowly started closing itself behind her. Charlie glanced back at the door nervously but quickly composed herself as she turned to face him. "You asked me to turn in my corrected research paper in class yesterday, but since you weren't present, Professor Crocker said I could turn it in to you during your office hours. So, here," Charlie explained as she presented her beautifully formatted research paper to him. She had made extra effort to avoid any elongated eye contact, since such eye contact between the two tended to rouse up unresolved anger issues in both of them, which never lead to anything good.

To Charlie's surprise, Professor Monroe calmly took the paper from her sans any derogatory comments. "That was a good idea," he responded as he turned to place the paper on his giant desk.

_That went shockingly well_ , Charlie thought as she stared cautiously at him, waiting for a sudden, cold outburst from him. Instead he continued to calmly go through a binder on his desk, finding a place to file her paper in. Charlie awkwardly turned to leave the office, but stopped herself mid-step. This was probably not a good idea. No, this was a  _horrendous_  idea. She shouldn't push her luck, but if he was suddenly acting like a normal professor, she could at least try to inquire about his earlier mood swings.

"Can I ask you something, Professor?" Charlie spoke quietly, already regretting her decision.

Professor Monroe looked up from his binder and intently fixed his gaze at her. The piercing blue eyes could be very intimidating when she wasn't fired up with anger at them. Charlie gulped, and tried to think of a good way to word her next question. There wasn't one.

"Why do you always go out of your way to make my time in your class miserable?" Charlie blurted out. Yeah, that wasn't how she had meant for the question to come out, and she mentally cursed at herself.

"Excuse me?" He replied challengingly, with his eyebrows raised. But his tone of voice hadn't gotten as dangerous as she had expected it to.

Charlie sighed as she forced herself to regain her confidence. "Ever since my first day in your class, when you read my name off the roll call sheet, you have gone out of your way to be a gigantic jerk to me, and I 'm just trying to understand why. I have never even met you before. What reason could you possibly have to treat me like this, specially since you are famous for being a 'chill' professor among all other students," Charlie ranted with frustration.

Monroe looked at her keenly before flicking his gaze back to his binder. "I have no idea what you are referring to," he calmly replied.

Charlie stared at him incredulously. "Seriously?" She shot back. "Oh, I don't know, gee! What could I possibly be referring to? It couldn't be the fact that you insulted me in front of the whole class for being  _five_  minutes late, when I have seen students walk in unnoticed even twenty minutes late! You gave me a C on an assignment that about 90% of the class got A's on. You crudely kicked me out of a study session for answering someone's question quietly when EVERYONE was talking throughout the session. Should I keep going?" She stared back at him challengingly, with one eyebrow raised.

Professor Monroe pursed his lips as he continued to flip through his binder. Finally, he turned back to the bookshelf and spoke. "You take things too personally, Charlotte."

" _I_  take things too personally?" She spat back at him, her fury unrestrained. "Don't even  _try_  to tell me that I'm imagining things. I'm not some pre-teen schoolgirl who creates fantasies in her head to feel important. I'm a grown person, and I'm not the only one who has noticed your hostility. And _why_  do you keep calling me that?"

Monroe sighed in irritation, and glanced at her. "Calling you what?"

"Charlotte!" she almost yelled back at him, her forehead crammed with angry wrinkles. "No one's called me that in…well,  _ever_."

"That's not true," he mumbled under his breath almost inaudibly.

"What?" she pressed, her anger turning to confusion.

"Nothing," he spat back uncomfortably, as if he hadn't meant to utter his last words out loud.

"Well, whatever!" Charlie shook her head. "The point is, you are a professor, and I'm your student. And I don't understand why it's so hard for you to just act like a normal person!" Her voice was back to its shouting fury, and she had inched closer to him in her angry outbursts.

Professor Monroe, who seemed to have been keeping a restraint on his emotions, turned heatedly towards her, his anger now unchained. "Keep your voice down," he muttered in his icy voice as his cold eyes stared dangerously at her.

" _Make_  me." Charlie spat back with conviction, unaffected by his fury.

Professor Monroe continued to stare at her with a glare that could melt people in its wrath. His glare was met with an equally disarming glower from Charlie, who refused to be silenced by this tyrant. It was only then that Charlie noticed just how close their faces had gotten to each other.

"You don't know anything about me, Charlotte," Monroe hissed coldly, staring at her face.

"More than I care to, actually," she fumed. "I know that you used to be stuck up Miles's butt until you two broke up!"

"That's enough!" He thundered, as his eye twitched in anger.

"No, _I_  have had enough!" she bellowed back. "I'm here to study, not be a subplot in your personal angst drama!"

"Not everything in this world is about you," he spat back.

"Tell yourself that," she sneered at him. The room had become significantly hotter since she had first stepped foot in it, or maybe that was just his warm breath on her skin. Charlie could practically feel his presence against hers; his body merely inches away. She glared back into his icy stare, as if daring him to respond with more insults.

But what he responded with was not an insult.

He glared back at her with utter resentment, his face inches away from hers and his heavy breath sweeping her face. Charlie didn't quite remember when the air in the room changed from hatred to desire but before she knew, she could feel his scruffy beard on her cheeks as his soft lips smashed against hers. Charlie held her breath for a moment, her heart pounding against her chest. What was going on? This was wrong. What were they doing? They were supposed to be fighting, not  _this_. What even was this?  _He's a professor!_  Her thoughts exclaimed.

And yet, Charlie found her lips melting into his, her hand caressing his firm chest. And as if they had been awaiting her response, his arms found themselves on her torso. His caress was no longer soft or gentle as his right hand aggressively grabbed her waist while his left hand traced its way from her stomach to her back. His lips covered her mouth in rough, passionate kisses as if an overwhelming hunger had been set free inside of him.

Charlie found her fingers trailing from his chest up towards his neck and caressing his hair while her other hand grasped his shirt for support. He tugged her waist towards him as he slammed her against his bookshelf, his left hand tracing down her arm and pressing her hand against the shelf. Charlie let out a moan as she felt his tongue slide into her mouth, her grasp on his hair getting tighter as she found herself hungrily returning his passionate kisses. She heard him let out a soft growl as their tongues battled each other for dominance and their lips dug into each other with an insatiable desire. She threw her head back with a groan as his searing lips moved from her lips to her cheek and eventually to the hollow of her neck, leaving lingering traces of fervent kisses in their wake. She stroked his neck with both hands as his lips nuzzled at her neck, her mind swirling with blinding feelings of desire and yearning. As Monroe's right hand moved rapidly from her hip up towards her stomach, a small civil war figurine got knocked off the shelf and onto the floor.

The crashing sound of the tiny statue was like a cold slap of reality to Charlie and Professor Monroe that jolted them out of their brief moment of sweltering passion. Professor Monroe swore under his breath as he pulled himself away from Charlie and turned towards his desk, avoiding any eye contact. Charlie, who felt frozen in position, just stared at the scene in front of her, still in shock over what had just transpired. After two deep breaths, Charlie jerked herself out of her shock and practically sprinted out the door. She didn't stop sprinting as she exited the office or the hallway. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotion and her heart was hammering violently against her chest. In all the chaos of her mind, Charlie could only bring her thoughts around to form two coherent words, which summed it all up.

_**Holy. Shit.** _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-year-old Charlie Matheson has just started college, and she couldn't be more thrilled. But the cause of her excitement isn't the new place or the people, rather, it's her US War History class and the mysterious Professor Monroe whose mention she has only heard in her mother's nostalgic stories of the past and Uncle Miles' rare, alcohol-infused rants.

"You look like you've seen a ghost!" Gella exclaimed as Charlie walked in the dorm room door, still breathing a little heavily from the madness of her encounter.

"Huh? Uh…I just…I...ran up the stairs too fast," Charlie answered, jerking herself out of her screaming thoughts.

"Why didn't you just take the elevator?" Gella inquired, befuddled.

"Uhh…It was full. I don't know…I need a minute," Charlie replied frantically, still not fully recovered from the earlier events, as she darted to the bathroom.

She shuffled to the floor as she shut the bathroom door behind her. "Oh. My. God." She whispered to herself and let out a long, heavy breath.

What had just happened? Had she just dreamed the entire incident? What was she, suddenly a star in a porno movie? How does something like this even happen in real life? When does a normal person's heated argument with a professor in their office turn into a full-fledged make out session out of nowhere other than in a porno? Her mind was buzzing with loud thoughts and confusion as she tried to go over the entire occurrence in her head, slightly shuddering at parts of it.

He kissed her. He  _kissed_  her. They made out.  _ **She made out with a professor.**_  And not just any professor. A professor who used to be her uncle's childhood best friend!

"Oh my God, I have gone insane," she whispered to herself, putting her head in her hands. "It's the stress. It's all the stress about finals and papers and grades. And PMS! I've been PMSing for a few days. It's the hormones! Definitely the hormones. Oh my God I'm babbling. I sound like Gella!"

Charlie stared at the wall in front of her as she finally pulled her head out of her hands and sighed. "HOW am I gonna go to class? This is a nightmare."

It was a good thing perhaps that today was a Thursday; she didn't need to worry about facing her erratic professor until after the weekend. But she would still have to face him. And what was that interaction going to be like? Were they going to avoid each other? Were they going to be awkward? Were they going to pretend like the whole thing never happened? The latter seemed like the best idea, but how? How could one avoid such a gigantic elephant in the room? He had slammed her against his creaky bookshelf for heaven's sake!

And with that thought, Charlie's mind wandered back to the tiny office space. To the closing door, and Professor Monroe's face. To the sweltering heat in the room, and the hate-filled glare he had thrown her way. To their screaming voices, and finally, to the way his lips had melted into hers. Charlie quivered as she let herself live through their brief moment of passion again. The way his lips had both caressed against hers gently and tugged on them roughly. The way his hands had trailed against her side softly and slammed her into the shelf passionately. The way they had both gotten lost in each other's fervent embrace momentarily before the fall of the figurine had broken the spell. Charlie snapped herself out of her thoughts as her mind went to more inappropriate places.

_What is wrong with you?!_  She practically mentally screamed at herself.  _There is literally a never-ending list of reasons why this is the absolute worst idea ever and the biggest of which is that this man has been nothing but a giant asshole to you ever since you set foot in his class._

_Okay, yeah, but have you_ _ **looked**_ _at him?_ Charlie countered herself.  _And I mean, the man knows how to take a girl's breath away._

_No! Stop that! This is not you!_ Charlie snapped at herself.

"Oh my God, I'm having arguments with myself. I have gone insane. I'm having a full-on psychotic break!" Charlie whispered out loud, once again putting her head in her hands as she shook it in frustration and sighed.

She sat like that for a few minutes, and finally took a deep breath and pulled herself up. She gazed into the mirror facing her and stared at her reflection. "You were in a tiny room, it got warm, the dude's kinda hot, he made the first move, and your curiosity got the best of you. And that's it. We never speak of this nuisance again, okay?" She told her reflection firmly. She shook herself as if shedding off the last remnant bits of the damned memory and composed herself as she finally headed back out of the bathroom.

Gella, who had been engrossed in a book, suddenly looked up at the sound of the bathroom door opening.

"You okay?" She inquired, looking slightly concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I…just had a moment and I needed some time to myself," Charlie answered much more calmly than earlier, smiling at her sweet roommate. "Sorry about earlier."

"No, no, it's fine. You just looked like you had gotten chased down a dark alley by armed psychopaths, and I got worried," Gella shared.

"Yeah, well, it's just been an interesting day," Charlie sighed, sitting down on her bed. "I'd just rather not talk about it."

"Yeah, of course," Gella smiled, delving back into her book.

Charlie laid her head down on her pillow, facing away from Gella. She stared off into space, trying and failing to keep herself from thinking about the damned kiss as she found her mind wandering back to the cramped office.


End file.
